The metal alley door closed behind Yukito. The city air ruffled his hair as he walked forward, hands in his pockets. After a few steps, he couldn't help but glance back and say with a half-smile, "I'm going to miss you guys."
Meanwhile, inside the arcade, the five delinquents stood motionless, like statues, trying to process the words they had just heard.
Makihara, the new "leader," was the first to speak. "He... he's gone?"
One of the boys began to tremble. A sob escaped his lips, and like a disease, the crying spread among them. With a shout, they yelled, "He's gone!" "THE DEMON IS GONE!"
The tears that streamed down their cheeks weren't tears of pain; they were tears of liberation. For more than two years, this gang of delinquents had been Yukito's servants and test subjects.
While the others were crying with joy, Makihara began to speak—"No more crazy missions, no more inhuman punishments, NO MORE crazy training!" With tears in his eyes, he looked at the boys—"WE ARE FREE!"
The shout echoed through the arcade, and as the delinquents hugged each other, the rest of the young people in the arcade had stopped playing. Some with the controllers half-pressed, others with the coin suspended in the air, all stared at the group of fools.
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In the calm of the city, Yukito walked along the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, true to form. People strolled by, avoiding him as he gazed into the city's corners. Each corner held a memory for Yukito. Passing by a park fence and seeing the swings, he remembered the time when he was 10 years old. He'd gotten into a fight with a 12-year-old boy and gotten a beating that time.
Not far from there was his old school, and he remembered how he'd gotten revenge on the boy who'd beaten him up. With a smile on his face, he recalled how, some time later, he'd knocked that idiot's teeth out.
As he reminisced, Yukito continued walking down the street. The multi-story buildings with peeling facades had been replaced by shops. Following his path, he headed toward one of these establishments: a bookstore.
The bookstore door opened easily. Inside, the noises from outside faded. Inside, there were only wooden shelves, stacked to the ceiling, creating aisles.
Yukito moved with a certain familiarity through the aisles until he reached the section he was looking for. His fingers moved until he found what he wanted: several volumes of manga, among them Skullman, Mazinger Z, and Devilman. Taking the volumes to the counter, he was attended to by
an older man with glasses who was reading a book. Without many words, he charged him for the volumes. With a smile on his face, he tucked the manga under his arm and pushed open the door to leave. Once on the street, Yukito headed to catch the bus back home.